– and not the kind of quiet that I like, the kind that’s usually comforting. This quiet is the kind of quiet that just feels. . . empty.
It’s the opposite of being at Lily’s, wearing a silver cape and makeup and playing the part of a magic dragon.
That’s the last thought I have before I fall asleep.
28
Lily
“I’m off of school today, Nana,” Chloe says loudly to the phone.
My parents complain they don’t get enough video chatting time with her on the phone, which really means that we don’t call every single night before Chloe goes to bed.
“You have a day off? Today isn’t a holiday.”
“She doesn’t have a day off of school, mom,” I say loudly from the other side of the room. I pull open the refrigerator door and take out the carton of orange juice. “She’s sick. Sort of.”
“I have a sore throat,” Chloe notifies her grandmother. “And I had the sniffles. But they’re gone now.”
“I’m starting to think the day off school was a mistake,” I say over my shoulder as I fill a plastic cup with orange juice. I set it on the table in front of Chloe, standing behind her and peering into the phone at my mother’s image on the video feed. My mother is in her housecoat – not a bathrobe, but one of those oversized terrycloth dresses with a zipper up the middle and pink flamingos and hibiscuses printed on it. Her brown hair is still in rollers and she’s sipping from an oversized mug of coffee. “Where’s dad?”
“He’s outside. He decided to replace the fence on the far side of the house.”
“At six in the morning?”
“You know your father.” She rolls her eyes as she sips her coffee. “He’s retired. He has to have a project.”
“But a fence? Really? Does he even know how to build a fence anymore?”
“Of course he does. Don’t be ridiculous. You do recall your childhood, right? Growing up on the farm? Your father didn’t forget how to put up a fence just because we wound up moving to the suburbs when you were in high school.”
“I haven’t forgotten, mom. I’m just saying it’s been a while since he’s put up a fence.”
She waves dismissively. “It’s like riding a bike. Shouldn’t you be at the bakery already? I don’t like you working so much, you know.”
I laugh. “You don’t like me working so much, but you’re reminding me that I should be at work?”
“Just because I don’t like it, doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t fulfill your responsibilities. What are you doing today, Chloe? Is Bethany babysitting you?”
“I’m seven now, Nana.”
I snort. “Seven years old is not grown up, Chloe. You still need a babysitter. And yes, Bethany will be here in fifteen minutes. And then I’ll be going to work, alright?”
“You know, your father and I are only three hours away.”
“You’re four hours away.”
“Not the way your father drives.”
Chloe cuts in. “Come play with me, Nana!”
“Your father and I could be there by eleven,” she insists.
“She’s sick, mom," I remind her. "You and dad don’t need to catch whatever virus she has.”
“I feel fine!” Chloe yells.
“If you feel fine, you should be going to school today.”
“I don’t want to go to school!”
“You’re staying with Bethany. That’s all there is to it. Nana and Pop-Pop are not driving down today. You’re going to go to their house for a whole week when school is over anyway.”
Chloe faces the phone. “Will we have ice cream?”
“Of course we’ll have ice cream,” my mother assures her. “And we’ll go to the playground – and the pool. Oh, and our neighbor has a little boy your age, Adrian, that you can play with.”
Chloe groans. “I don’t want to play with a boy.”
“Since when?” my mother asks. “You’re best friends with one of the boys in your class.”
“He’s not my best friend.”
“You said he was your boyfriend.”
“He’s a friend who’s a boy. Like mommy’s boyfriend.”
I clear my throat, hoping my mother missed the last part of what Chloe just said, the little rat. “All right, it’s almost time for Bethany to get here, Chloe. Eat your cereal. Mom, I have to finish getting dressed.”
“Oh no, you don’t get to avoid this conversation. Who’s your boyfriend?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, mother. I’m not sixteen years old.”
My mother snorts. “I’m all too aware that you’re not sixteen. And that you’ve not had a boyfriend in about as many years.”
“Okay, this is not a conversation we’re going to have right now.”
“Who’s mommy’s boyfriend, Chloe?”
“No one, mother.”
“He’s a boy friend,” Chloe says, emphasizing each word. “He let me do his makeup.”
“Oh, really? His makeup, huh?”
“Is that the doorbell?” I ask. “Tell Nana you’ll talk to her later, Chloe.”
“Don’t worry – I’ll ask you about this friend later, Lily.”
“Goodbye, mom.”
I definitely don’t have a boyfriend. I may not even have a boy friend, either, the way the night ended with Killian. I didn’t want him here when Chloe woke up, sure, but I probably could have found a more eloquent way of putting it than the way I did. I need to read a dating book or something: Ten Easy Ways To Kick A Guy Out Of Your House After Sex So Your Kid Doesn’t See Him.
Having my mind go completely blank and then stumbling over my words trying to explain why I was asking Killian to leave was definitely not my finest hour. I blame the sex, though. How was I supposed to be able to rationally and clearly articulate anything after my mind had turned completely into mush? The orgasms made me stupid.
On my way to work, I glance at my phone. Should I text him? Oh God, are there rules for texting after sex? What’s that wait-three-days rule? Is that for after sex or after a date? We haven’t even had a date, so maybe the dating rules don’t apply.
Paralyzed by indecision, I just don’t text him at all.
Opal hands me an espresso the minute I reach the counter. “You look like you need this.” She rings up a customer and busies herself making his coffee.
“Mmm. Yes, please. Do you have anything stronger?” I’m not sure if I need several shots of espresso or several shots of alcohol.
“I think there might be a bottle of something behind one of the containers in the refrigerator.”
“You’re keeping booze in my fridge, Opal?”
“Only for emergencies. Although six-thirty in the morning seems a little early. Besides, I’d think you’d be in a better mood.” She hands the man his latte. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“Why would you think that?” I hiss.
Opal shrugs and blinks her eyes innocently. “I might have heard that Killian was bringing some soup to your house last night.”
“You heard.”
“It’s a small town. Rumors fly.”
“Rumors? Are you kidding?” I whisper. “How did anyone find out? Oh my God. Killian talked to you? Did he tell you?”
“Tell me what? That you two…”
“Yes, that we, you know.”
“Girl, you’d make a terrible spy. You’d spill your guts in thirty seconds.”
“Good thing I’m not trying to be a spy.”
Opal chortles. “That’s not what I heard from Chloe.”
“I need to talk to her about telling stories to her classmates.”
“Killian didn’t tell me anything, so relax. CJ told me.”
“CJ from the restaurant? How does she know?” Panic bubbles up in my chest. West Bend is really so damn small that everyone knows everything about everyone, isn’t it?
“She knows he bought soup. He went there for it. She’d already closed up, but she was there cleaning and Killian paid her extra to open
up and get him some soup to go.”
“And she told you?”
Opal cocks her head to the side. “Child, I’ve lived in this town all of my seventy-three years. There isn’t anything that goes on here I don’t find out about.”
A woman interrupts to order a box of pastries and two large coffees. I pour hot coffee into the cups while Opal places pastries into the box. “That doesn’t sound at all creepy, Opal.”
“It’s just a fact, sugar. People are interested in who’s seeing who in this town. And that’s especially going to be true when it comes to you and Killian Saint.”
“You’re seeing Killian Saint?” the woman interrupts, her box of pastries in hand.
“No,” I quickly reply. “Of course not. No one is seeing anyone. There’s no seeing going on.”
The woman takes her coffee, eyebrows raised. “Of course not.”
“Not that it’s anyone’s business who I’m seeing or not seeing,” I say pointedly.
The topic of Killian doesn’t come up again until a couple of hours later when I’m in the kitchen taking advantage of the late morning lull to work on a cake. Opal walks through the door and stands by the counter, looking at me expectantly. “Well?” she asks.
“Well what?”
“You know what.”
“I’m not dishing details, Opal.”
“I don’t want details. I want to know why you’ve got a bee in your bonnet after boning Killian.”
“Did you just use the word boning to describe sex?”
Opal shrugs. “It’s what the kids call it. Because of the guy’s boner.”
“Yes, I gathered that much. Where do you get this stuff?”
“I told you. It’s important to stay current. You need to get yourself a little more current, child.”
“Chloe ratted me out to my mother.”
“And?”
“And what? She called him my boyfriend.”
“Good.”
“What do you mean, good? He’s not my boyfriend.”
“He should be.”
I distract myself by rolling out a piece of fondant. “No. He shouldn’t be. I don’t need some guy waltzing into my life – into Chloe’s life – and then turning out to be…”
“Like her father?”
I haven’t told Opal anything about Chloe’s father, not the details anyway. Just that he wasn’t a good guy. “Yes. Like her father, okay? Just because I slept with him doesn’t mean that he’s my boyfriend. Or that I want to get into anything else with him. It’s casual.”
Opal snorts. “Sure it is.”
“You’re the one who told me I should have something casual!”
“Yes. I was also in favor of you being less neurotic.”
“I am so not neurotic.”
Opal chortles. “So when that boy asks you out on a real date, a proper one, you’re going to say yes? You’re not going to second-guess everything?”
I stare at her. “I don’t know. I don’t even know that he’s going to ask me out on a date. It was awkward afterward. When I kicked him out, he was… He said he understood. But it was weird. And I haven’t exactly heard from him.”
“You kicked him out?”
“I wasn’t going to let him stay over and have to explain it to Chloe in the morning. I’m being a responsible parent.”
Opal sighs. “You know, Chloe would love to have a sleepover at my house so you could have a date.”
“I’m not sending Chloe off to your house so I can… sleep with my boyfriend!”
“He’s your boyfriend now?”
I groan. “You know what I mean.”
“I’m sure her grandparents would love to come down for the weekend so you can have some adult time.”
I laugh. “I’m positive my mother would be more than happy to do that. She’d also be more than happy to have me engaged to him by the end of the week.”
“That’s because she wants you to be happy.”
“I’m happy. Geez.”
Opal raises her eyebrows. “I’d think you would be happier, what with the boning and all.”
I pick up a hand towel and throw it at her. “I’m not talking to you about that! You need to mind your own business, old woman.”
Opal shakes her head. “If I minded my own business, you would have been as old as I am before anything happened between the two of you. Your vagina should be thanking me.”
29
Killian
“You could have brought the girl from the bakery.” Luke leans close and speaks low as he hands me a platter of cider-glazed pork chops with blackberry something-or-other sauce – he just finished reciting the menu to me but I zoned out halfway through. I give him shit about his fancy culinary skills, but if I'm honest, Luke's cooking really is nine kinds of awesome.
“I don’t know what girl you’re talking about,” I state.
My cell phone is practically burning a hole in my pocket. I should have texted Lily today, but last night left me on edge – not the being-kicked-out part, but the part where I got back to my cabin and actually missed being at her house.
“You wouldn’t be ashamed of your siblings, would you?” Luke follows me out to the dining room in his and Autumn’s house, setting two more platters – brown sugar pecan sweet potatoes and almond green beans – on the table after me.
“Who’s ashamed of us?” Elias yells from the other room. “I haven’t even taken off my leg or anything.”
River slaps his arm. “That’s not a funny party trick.”
“That’s not what you said at Halloween. You laughed when I scared those teenagers.”
Silas snorts loudly. “It’s a leg. It’s not nearly as good as a glass eye.”
“Yeah, I don’t know why you wouldn’t want anyone to meet us," Luke says quietly.
“Yeah, I have no idea why I wouldn't.”